Carry You Home
by KitMarlowe
Summary: The drugs in Shilo’s body won’t leave her without a fight, and Graverobber watches helpless as she loses. CHARACTER DEATH.


Title: Carry You Home  
Author: Kit Marlowe  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: The drugs in Shilo's body won't leave her without a fight, and Graverobber watches helpless as she loses.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Repo, Shilo, or Graverobber. I don't own the song either.

_Trouble is her only friend and he's back again.  
Makes her body older than it really is.  
She says it's high time she went away,  
No one's got much to say in this town.  
Trouble is the only way is down.  
Down, down._

Graverobber held her shoulders and smoothed her hair back from her face as she retched into the street. It was the third time in an hour, and her stomach had nothing left to give, leaving her choking on bile. She leaned weakly against him, coughing. He pulled her closer, gruffly whispering.  
"It's getting better, sounds like. You should be good as new tomorrow." She nodded against him, shivering, though the night was mild.  
"I will be. I just need some rest." He smiled weakly. They both knew it wasn't true. Her body was breaking down, the last of her father's medicine had left her, and now it was only time before her body gave up the fight it took to sustain her without it. It was too reliant on the drugs…drugs she refused to keep taking, now that her father was dead.  
"That's the spirit." He pulled them both to their feet, supporting as much of her weight as she would give over. Stubborn little bug, he thought, looking down at her. Maybe she would make it through this…he'd seen stranger things happen since he'd met this girl. But then she swayed, cough ripping through her chest, and his heart clenched. He should never had let this happen, should have taken her home, force-fed her the drugs. Or, even better, he should have never got involved with her in the first place.

_As strong as you were, tender you go.  
I'm watching you breathing for the last time.  
A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,  
I know what it means and I'll carry you home.  
I'll carry you home._

But, he let himself admit, as he picked her up and began carrying her through the streets, back to the tiny room they'd found to live in, he would choose her again, whatever happened tonight. The past two weeks, though he'd never tell, had been the happiest he could remember. The kids was a riot at times, a student at others, a shoulder to lean on, and someone to protect, which gave him a sense of purpose he'd never had before. He hugged her closer to him, swallowing hard. He was never very good at letting go.  
By the time they reached the apartment, Shilo's body was shaking in his arms. He laid her down on the couch, pressing a hand to her forehead, and found her burning up. He bit his lip, hard. She was too warm, much too warm. He sat on the table beside her, and took her hand.  
It wouldn't be long now.

_If she had wings she would fly away,  
And another day God will give her some.  
Trouble is the only way is down.  
Down, down._

He stared at her face, remembering the first time he'd seen it. She'd been so scared, but she'd trusted him not to hurt her, following his vain attempt to help her. He reached out to cup her cheek, thinking. Since that time, he'd seen her irritated, nostalgic, joyful, exhausted, furious, weeping, proud, worried and giddy. He'd held her hand, touched her skin, wiped her tears, shared her laughs, watched her back, and once, just once, pressed his lips to hers. Angrily, he wiped at the moisture that sprang to his eyes at that last remembrance. She coughed again, blood springing to her lips, and he felt his stomach drop. He wasn't ready to let her go, not yet. But when she looked at him, her breathing labored, her eyes filled with tears, he knew he had to.

_As strong as you were, tender you go.  
I'm watching you breathing for the last time.  
A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,  
I know what it means and I'll carry you home.  
I'll carry you home._

"Graverobber, I-" he hushed her with his hand over her lips.  
"It's ok, kid. I know. And I'm not going anywhere." He rubbed her forehead; watching her breath grow more and more labored, and then begin to slow. Her eyes drifted shut, but she forced them open one last time, to meet his eyes. She said nothing, but her eyes said enough. He couldn't stop the harsh breath that left him at the emotion she laid bare before him.  
"Yeah, kid." He said, fighting the tightness in his throat. "I think I loved you a little bit too."

_And someone's little girl was taken from the world tonight_

Her body was cold by the time he found the strength to let go of her hand. His eyes were red, but dry as he caressed her face. He lifted her gently into his arms again, and carried her out of the shoddy apartment, past the wide-eyed, unspeaking junkies, through the graveyard where he'd seen her first, past her father's dark house, out, out, and away.  
He buried her far from any graveyard, far from anywhere someone sane would come. He wrapped her gently in his old coat, remembering her fingers stroking the fur. He kissed her forehead, and pretended not to notice the tears he left behind.  
"You're really somethin', kid." He whispered, laying her back gently into the ground. "Hope I'll catch you again. If what they say is true, well…" He touched her face one last time. "Maybe you'll wait for me a while."

_As strong as you were, tender you go.  
I'm watching you breathing for the last time.  
A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,  
I know what it means and I'll carry you home.  
I'll carry you home._


End file.
